Torn
by CherrieOrchid
Summary: Harry and Hermione have been together since fifth year. Now in their seventh year, everything seems perfect, but Hermione is about to be hit with feelings for someone she never expected...    Warnings for language, sexual content and dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic was inspired by the song _Unfaithful_ by Rihanna, and some elements of personal experience. Rated for language, sexual content and dark themes. H/Hr and D/Hr.

I'm a bit of newb at this so any pointers etc. would be much appreciated. Reviews are awesome so I know whether or not I'm on the right track.

Hope you enjoy = )

_I don't know when it changed. I don't know why. All I know is how I felt when I realised._

_It was like a blow to the chest… no. More like a blow to the heart. And the head. Hard enough to send me reeling. Deliciously horrifying, exquisitely painful._

_Twisted. Dirty. Wrong._

_Have you ever felt like you're being torn apart? Metaphorically, of course, but no less agonising. When your head wants one thing, and your heart wants another, and you can't even tell anymore which is which? When to try and choose is akin to deciding whether water or oxygen is more vital to life?_

_But, of course, none of this makes any sense, unless you know the circumstance. Even then, judgement is easy when you lack the experience. Maybe once you know, you'll understand._

_Maybe if someone understands, the pain will go away._

"Fuck!"

I winced and clumsily pulled myself up from my sprawled position on the grass. Looking around, I saw the offending object I had tripped over; a tree-root, slyly hidden behind a mound of earth. As I gingerly tested my weight on the affected foot, I heard mocking laughter from behind me.

"Nice one, Granger!"

Malfoy. Of course. If I was going to make a total ass of myself, it would have to be in front of that idiot and his group of adoring fan boys.

Restraining myself from pulling out my wand and hexing the lot of them, I marched away as fast as dignity and my painful ankle would allow. I could hear them cat-calling after me, but chose to ignore it. As gratifying as taking out my wounded pride on them would be, it would only make things worse in the long run.

I reached Gryffindor Tower in considerably more pain than I had expected - apparently I'd hurt my ankle rather more seriously than I'd originally thought. Collapsing on my bed, I eased off my shoe and sock and inspected it. There was a little swelling, but nothing worse; nothing resting it for a while wouldn't fix. Of course, that did leave the problem that I was confined to my room for at least the remainder of the day.

Sighing, I reached into my bedside drawer and extracted my Arithmancy book. Might as well get some homework done in the meantime. I took my quill from my bag and was soon lost in the work.

Suddenly, a tap on my head made me look up. There was a paper aeroplane hovering in front of me, nudging my forehead. Slightly exasperated at the interruption, I yanked it out of the air and opened it.

_I saw you come in. You walked straight past me. What's up? Come downstairs! Love you._

In spite of myself, I smiled. Harry. I hadn't realised he was in the common room, in my hurry to get to the dormitory and rest my foot. Unfortunately for him, I was in no fit state to be wandering up and down a staircase, and the girls' room had an inconvenient 'anti-male' safety-guard.

Harry and I had been dating since the end of our fifth year at Hogwarts. It had surprised some of our friends, but I personally didn't see what the problem was. We'd been best friends since our first term, and to my mind the attraction between us must have been screamingly obvious to all but the dullest of observers. Admittedly, we had our fair share of sceptics; the number of times I'd been called a gold-digger, or some variation thereof, would have made me independently wealthy had I received a knut for every comment. Added to that were those who still held up my brief relationship with Krum in fourth year as a reasonable impediment, despite the fact that it only lasted a few months.

To my mind, the biggest obstacle had been Ron. He'd taken the revelation very badly at first, and it wasn't until well into sixth year that he'd finally come to terms with it. I'm not sure whether his objections were due to a lingering crush on me, or the fear of me stealing his best friend away, or some weird combination of the two. He'd reconciled himself to it now, though, and the little tensions in our friendship threesome had melted gradually away as sixth year came to a close. Harry and I weren't the most demonstrative couple, which probably helped a little.

Now, halfway through our final year, Harry, Ron and I were as tight-knit as we ever had been, save the usual affectionate griping between me and Ron, which was more of a habit than anything else. Harry and I had settled happily into a routine that was comfortable without being tedious. We didn't smother each other, argue much, or get bored in the time we spent together. Everything was pretty much perfect.

Thinking about this, I scribbled a reply on the back of the note:

_Tripped over outside and hurt my ankle. Nothing serious, but I need to rest it up for a while. I'll come down later on. Love you too._

_P.S. Get some work done while you wait!_

I sent the note swooping back down the stairs, but for once in my life found I couldn't get my concentration back sufficiently to focus on my work. Sighing, I laid the book aside and lay back on the bed, letting my mind drift off…

_I was running. It was dark. The trees were closing in around me, and I could hear screams on the air. Screams of terror. Screams of pain. The dark laugh of the enemy as he followed me._

_Pointless to try and escape. He'd find me, just like he'd found the others. He'd find me, and when he did, death would be a blessing compared with what he'd do to me, to discover what I knew. And terrible as my suffering would be, it would be nothing to that of those I might betray._

_I ran, stumbled, picked myself up and ran again. The laughter was closing in, louder now and coming from all sides. The trees loomed angrily above me, trying to block my way. The wind howled and moaned, and lightning cracked in the air._

"_Hermione, this way!" I whipped my head around, trying to find the source of the voice, but it was faint, and fading even as I heard it. I tried to follow it, zigzagging between the trees, trying to find the source._

"_Over here!" Louder now, off to my left. I ran towards the sound, heart pounding, gasping for breath. I was on the point of collapse, but somehow I knew, if I could only get to the voice, I'd be safe. I'd be home._

_A figure, shadowy and shrouded up ahead, just visible through the maze of trees and branches. Holding out his arms, calling my name, urging me forwards. I willed my tired legs to keep running, to reach my saviour; the closer I got, the more the wind seemed to quiet, the storm ceased to squall. The evil laughter faded and died._

_I collapsed into his arms, and it all stopped. I was with him, and nothing else mattered. His arms around me, the smell of him, the way he stroked my hair and soothingly murmured my name. He held me tight, calming me. I could feel his heart beating against mine where we were pressed together._

"_It's ok, Hermione. You're safe, I've got you, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore."_

_He cupped my face in his hand and brought my head up, brushing my tears away with his thumb as he leaned in to kiss me…_

I woke with a start, heart still hammering. I'd had the dream many times, so much that I almost knew it by heart. Every detail, always the same. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and groggily sat up, slightly disoriented by the darkness in the room.

It wasn't until then that it hit me, and the shock of the revelation nearly made me cry out in alarm. There _had been something different this time, and the realisation of what it was sent a shudder of revulsion through me._

_This time, my saviour had not been Harry._

_This time, it had been Malfoy._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Ok, so here's chapter two. I had a bit of trouble writing this one, and it got away from me a little bit. As before, feedback would be appreciated so I know where I'm going wrong._

_Forgot to say last time, but obviously, none of these characters are mine; all spring from the much-more-talented brain of J. and I'm just playing around with them. Lyrics at the bottom belong to Rihanna, and are from Unfaithful_.

Hope you enjoy.

**After a long, hot shower, during which I had tried to scrub away all memory of the dream, although to little effect, I headed to the common room. I was painfully aware that it was past nine o'clock in the evening, and the thought that I had kept Harry waiting, and possibly worrying about me, all this time only increased the guilt I felt.**

**Aside from the soapy exorcism attempt, I'd spent my time in the shower trying to convince myself that the dream meant nothing. I'd had it at least once a week for the past few years, ever since You-Know-Who's return. It had been one of the first clues that I felt more for Harry than friendship.**

**But that was the issue; my saviour had never before been anyone but Harry. It had always been Harry I was running to, Harry who held me and soothed away my terror, who tenderly brushed the tears from my cheek and kissed me awake. For anyone else to play the role felt like a violation of the most dreadful kind - an unwelcome intrusion into something that, while terrifying and unwanted, also reassured me that whatever happened in the war, I'd never have to face it alone.**

**I'd shivered, thinking about that, despite the rush of steaming water pounding my skin. No matter how much I scrubbed myself, I hadn't been able to get rid of the dirty, guilty feeling the dream had produced, irrational as it was. Logically, I knew that one could not control one's dreams, magic aside, but the sense that I had betrayed Harry persisted. The fact that the intruder had been Malfoy was not just terrible, it was practically blasphemous.**

**If there had been one constant truth during my time at Hogwarts, it had been that Malfoy was the Nemesis. He'd referred to me as Mudblood more times than I cared to think about, and every time he did it felt like he was burning the word onto my soul. Malfoy had, by turns, inspired rage, hatred, venom, violence, anguish and pain in me; my various encounters with Death Eaters and even You-Know-Who himself had arguably inflicted less emotional trauma on me than he had with his constant persecution of my friends and I. Just thinking about his actions of the previous year, especially the denouement, made me fervently wish he had never been born. I'd expected him to be a no-show at Hogwarts this year, and the fact that he returned showing no remorse and still acting as if he owned the place spoke volumes about his total lack of a conscience.**

**Malfoy was a remorseless, unfeeling, pureblood-obsessed, arrogant bastard, and his appearance in my dream was an abomination, a thing to be purged and forgotten, never spoken of. That last part was, of course, obvious, but it pained me to hide anything from Harry. In our relationship, we didn't have secrets. If something was bothering one of us, we discussed it; we'd quickly realised that to bottle things up caused far greater harm in the long-term than to get them out in the open where they could be rationally talked through. My feelings of guilt increased as I contemplated breaking our one steadfast rule.**

**It had to be, though. To tell Harry would not be productive in this instance; it would only worry, and quite possibly disgust him. Worse, he might even start to doubt me and my affections for him. While Harry and I trusted each other implicitly, we had both had past encounters with feelings of jealousy; neither of us was perfect in that regard. The dream, I reasoned with myself, was just a dream and nothing more, doubtless prompted by my encounter and subsequent anger with Malfoy earlier in the day. To think otherwise was ridiculous, and to tell Harry of it would only incite worry and doubt over something that could not be changed.**

**Thus far had I reasoned as I finished my shower, and while the feelings of violation and guilt remained, I was convinced that no deeper meaning lay in the dream. Draco Malfoy was the last person I would consider being with, and even less likely to be a saviour to me. To imagine otherwise was ridiculous. Dreams were just dreams.**

**However realistic.**

**In the common room, Harry was sitting in one of the armchairs, staring into the fire, a textbook laid open on his lap. Ron was asleep on the sofa, his mouth hanging open, snoring loudly at intervals - he would have made me giggle had I been in a happier state of mind. As it was, I came up softly behind Harry and planted a soft kiss on the top of his head.**

**He turned and smiled at me, his green eyes lighting up. "Where've you been, sweetheart? I was getting bored!"**

**I forced myself to sound nonchalant. "I fell asleep - while reading up on Arithmancy, can you believe that?"**

"**Merlin, Hermione, are you ill? I don't think I've ever known you to sacrifice studying for sleep before!" He chuckled as he spoke, and I gave him a small smile.**

"**First time for everything, apparently."**

"**How's your foot doing?" He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me to keep me stable. I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder, grateful for the warmth he exuded. I'd been feeling cold ever since leaving the shower.**

"**Feels better. Won't be running any marathons for a while though."**

**He laughed again and kissed my nose. "Poor baby. So what happened? Daydreaming about me too much to watch where you were going?"**

**That prompted a little snort of laughter from me, despite my sombre mood. "That's exactly it. I was thinking about how many babies we should have, and what to call them. Any thoughts? I'd value your input."**

**Despite the fact that I was obviously joking, his eyes widened momentarily. "This is in the future, right? The **_**far distant**_** future? 'Cause I have to tell you, Hermione, I really don't think I'm up to fatherhood just yet."**

**I considered continuing to tease him, but relented. Cute as he was when flustered, I wasn't particularly in the mood for a drawn-out wind-up tonight. I contented myself with nuzzling closer against him, hiding my face in his neck and inhaling his scent. His arms tightened around me.**

"**Sweetheart? You ok?" His voice held a faint note of concern and I shook myself out of my reverie.**

"**I'm fine. Just… I don't know. Stressed out, I suppose. Everything's been getting on top of me a bit lately."**

**He rubbed my shoulder comfortingly. "Anything you want to talk about?"**

"**Nothing serious - just NEWTs, really." I mentally winced at the white lie, one of the few I'd ever told him. To temper it, I added, "Malfoy and his little gang of misfits saw me trip over earlier, though, which didn't help my mood much. They're lucky I didn't hex them."**

**His grip on my shoulder tightened for a moment. "Malfoy." His voice was soft, but I could tell he was angry. "Wanker."**

**I shrugged, trying to sound laid-back. "It's fine, really, you don't need to get worked up. It's Malfoy, would you expect him **_**not**_** to laugh when he sees me in pain? He's not worth getting upset over."**

"**Even if that's the case, doesn't mean I have to like it."**

"**How many times have you had a go at Malfoy, Harry? And how many times has it ever gone well? There's no point." I raised my head and looked into his eyes, seeking to calm him with mine. Tentatively, not sure how annoyed he was, or how easy he would be to soothe, I placed a soft kiss on his pouting lips. He didn't respond at first, but then his lips parted under mine and his hand slid round to the back of my head, pulling me closer into the kiss. His other hand rested on my thigh, where he began softly rubbing his thumb in tiny circles over the exposed skin where my skirt had ridden up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into him, pressing myself against him and wishing I could be closer still. I moaned slightly as the tip of his tongue gently touched mine.**

**A loud, pointed cough broke us out of the kiss, and we saw Ron, now fully awake, glaring at us half-amusedly. "If you're going to do that, could you not do it in here please?"**

**I got up quickly, somewhat embarrassed. As much as Ron was adjusted to our relationship now, I still felt uncomfortable showing too much affection around him. "We didn't realise you were awake, Ron, you seemed out for the count."**

"**Yeah, well, your little lovers' chat woke me up." He smirked slightly. "Maybe I should head to bed and leave you to it?" His eyebrows spoke innuendo, and despite myself, I blushed.**

"**Sounds good to me!" Harry jokingly pulled me back onto his lap, so quickly that I lost balance and almost fell off. Ron shook his head in what was presumably meant to be a despairing manner.**

"**Merlin, you two can't keep your hands off each other, can you?"**

"**That's pretty rich after your little fling with Lavender last year, mate," Harry put in. Ron at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed at that, although the renewed appearance of the smirk suggested that he wasn't **_**that**_** ashamed.**

"**I think I need some fresh air anyway," I announced, wanting to lead the talk away from such subjects. Lavender's liaison with Ron the year before was a touchy topic, considering the circumstances surrounding it. Ron would have been annoyed if he knew I still viewed it as a juvenile attempt to get his own back on Harry and I for our relationship. Quite apart from the fact that Ron meant nothing to me in that sense, thus rendering such antics pointless, watching the two of them all over each other for the best part of two months had been sickening. If I wanted to watch soft-core porn, I thought, I could do a lot better than those two!**

**I marched to the door. "Harry, want to join me?" He quickly got up and followed me out, shrugging apologetically at Ron as he did so.**

**Outside, I took a deep breath and ran my hands through my hair nervously, wishing the uneasy feeling I still carried would go away. I wanted to relax, to forget about everything and just enjoy wandering through the Hogwarts grounds, in what was the last year I'd have a chance to do it. Despite all the terrible things that had happened during my time at Hogwarts, this school, these grounds, were where I had grown up. Where I'd made friends and found love and realised what I wanted to do with my life. I wasn't sure I was ready to say goodbye to them yet, and I didn't want to waste the time I had left moping.**

**Harry came up behind me and put his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. I leaned back into him, taking comfort from his embrace. "I'm so glad I've got you, Harry."**

**He chuckled softly and nuzzled my neck. "For as long as you want me, sweetheart." He kissed me gently on the collarbone, sending a pleasurable shiver through my body. His hands tightened on my waist as I turned my face up to his and kissed him, reaching up one hand to run my fingers through his silky black hair.**

**Our relationship had become sexual at the end of our sixth year, in what some would view as not overly propitious circumstances. After Professor Dumbledore's funeral, we'd both been grieving, but Harry had been hit by his death a lot harder than I had. Understandable, of course, but I was at a loss to know how to comfort him. He'd spent hours that summer sitting in his room at The Leaky Cauldron, staring dismally into space, never speaking, hardly moving. I wanted to help but the words wouldn't come; all I could do was sit next to him and hold his hand as he brooded on the memories.**

**It almost broke us, if I'm honest. I almost didn't have the strength to stay, when he wouldn't talk to me. The time he spent inside his own head seemed to pull him farther and farther out of my reach, no matter how tightly I held him. He seemed… empty. Vacant. He was with me physically, but emotionally we might as well have been miles apart. Even when he spoke to me, his eyes were distant. I spent most nights crying myself to sleep alone in my bed, wishing I could bring him back to me, but having no idea how to.**

**One day, I finally snapped.**

"**I can't do this anymore, Harry. I Can't. Fucking. Do this!"**

**He looked up at me, only the faintest sign of interest in his eyes.**

"**Do what?"**

"**This! Trying to get you to talk to me, trying to help you get over this! You're not the only one who's mourning him, can't you see that? What, are you going to sit in this room staring at the wall forever?"**

**His expression hardened. "And what would you know about it?" he almost spat. "I'm not the only one who's mourning him? I'm the only bloody person who even seems to realise he's gone!" He strode to the window and threw it open, letting the sounds of Diagon Alley flood into the room. "Hear that? That's the sound of no one giving a shit, yeah? Petty little people with their petty little lives, wandering around in a happy little oblivion , too fucking self-obsessed to give a damn about anyone but themselves. The best wizard of this century, the only person who cared anything about me except as some stupid kid attached to a scar, is dead. And no one cares. No one even notices. I'm not the only one mourning? You find me one person, Hermione, who he meant as much to as me."**

**I stared at him in utter amazement, less at the outburst than at the sheer, self-indulgent arrogance of it. "You **_**hypocrite**_**!"**

**He looked stunned. "What?"**

"_**Hypocrite**_**," I repeated, slowly, enunciating each syllable. "You stand there and tell me that people are too self-obsessed to care about Dumbledore's death? If we're going to talk about self-obsession, why don't we examine you?" I walked across the room until my face was inches away from his. "You sit in this room, day in, day out, staring at the wall, feeling sorry for yourself, refusing to speak to anyone. How would you know what anyone else is feeling? You haven't even bothered to ask!"**

"**I can tell, ok?" He clenched his fists and glared at me.**

"**You can tell! Oh, of course you can, because I forgot how good Harry Potter is at Leglimency!"**

"**That's not fair, Hermione!"**

**I laughed, coldly. "Since when was any of this fair?" I slumped down in the chair next to the fireplace, wrapping my arms around myself in a feeble attempt to ward off the sad memories. "People die all the time, Harry. We can't spend all our lives mourning them, however much we loved them. You should know that better than anyone."**

**I looked up, and his green eyes were glistening. I didn't know who he was thinking of; his parents, Sirius, maybe even Cedric. I wanted to hold him, wipe away the bad memories, but now I'd started I needed to finish. Needed to make him understand.**

"**Harry, all of us are grieving. Maybe we didn't know him as well as you did, but that doesn't mean we don't care. Merlin, Harry, Dumbledore's been a constant in all our lives for the past six years - how could we possibly **_**not care**_**?"**

"**Then why doesn't anyone bloody show it?"**

"**If you'd bothered to pay attention to anyone but yourself, you'd have noticed that we are! Haven't you seen Mrs Weasley every time we're over there, crying into the soup she's making half the time? Or Mr Weasley, barely ever around because he's tinkering with all that crap in the shed, trying to do anything to take his mind off things? Or Fred and George, who haven't played a single bloody joke on anyone all summer? You haven't noticed any of that, or did you just think it was normal?"**

**He looked stricken. "I… I didn't… realise."**

"**Of course you didn't, you've been too **_**self-obsessed**_**! Sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself, probably blaming yourself, wishing he wasn't gone and ignoring everything and everyone around you!"**

**He stood looking at the ground, his expression blank. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but at least it looked like he was thinking **_**something**_**. He no longer looked vacant.**

**I sighed heavily, got up out of the chair and walked to the window, wondering if any of what I said had got through. Would it really make the slightest bit of difference, or would he just resent me for pointing it out?**

**Down below, Diagon Alley was full of people, but it wasn't right. No one was laughing, there were no children running into the sweetshop or gazing excitedly into the windows of the broom emporium. People went about their business hurriedly, walking fast with their heads down. Everything was wrong. Harry might look, but he didn't see.**

"**It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live."**

**He said it so quietly, I could barely make the words out. I turned from the window to stare at him. "What?"**

**He gave me a sad smile. "It's something Dumbledore said to me once. About the Mirror of Erised. You can't spend your life wishing for things and neglect everything else." He walked towards me, looked into my eyes. "I didn't even realise that's what I'd been doing. I was so caught up in my own guilt and pain, I didn't notice anyone else's." He took my hands, tentatively, never taking his gaze off my face. "Hermione, I'm so sorry."**

**I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder, unable to speak for fear I would burst out sobbing. He sounded so much more like himself; I hadn't realised how much it felt like I had lost him. The relief caused silent tears to spring unbidden from my eyes and run down my cheeks.**

**We stood like that for what seemed like hours, my arms round his neck, his round my waist, lost in a wordless embrace. I felt him shuddering against me as he tried to contain the onslaught of emotions, and held him tighter, pressing myself against him, willing him to release the pent-up pain and anguish he'd been carrying around for the past month.**

**Finally, he pulled away from me and moved his hands up to cup my face, his emerald eyes gazing seriously into mine. Just like in my dreams, he brushed the tears from my cheeks and brought my face upwards to meet his lips.**

**The kiss was passionate, all-consuming. We clung to each other, a month of pain and grief and emotional torment released in a rush as our lips met. His hands slid down my body, resting on my hips and gripping them tightly, pulling me closer into his strong, slim body. Mine tangled into his hair, never wanting to let him go. My heart was pounding, not from fear, as in my dream, but from excitement, happiness, blessed relief that I had him back.**

**His hands were caressing my hips now, sliding under my shirt to stroke my skin, moving slowly higher towards my waist, around my back. He broke the kiss and brought his lips down to my neck, kissing slowly, tantalisingly downwards, drawing a small moan from me. I could feel him against me, hardening beneath his jeans, and the sensation made me gasp. He stopped and looked at me, concerned.**

"**Hermione… we don't have to…"**

"**I want to," I whispered. I wanted to be close to him, to feel him, to know that he was there and mine and that I hadn't lost him. I wanted him to make love to me, to seal our emotional bond with something more tangible.**

**His expression, at my words, took on a look of determination and purpose. He kissed me again, slightly more roughly this time, and picked me up in his arms, carrying me over to the bed…**

**I shook myself back into the present with a start. Harry was looking at me quizzically, his hands still resting on my waist. "You're in a little world of your own tonight, aren't you?" he asked, half-smiling.**

**I looked down, embarrassed that I'd let my mind wander so far. "Just… remembering. Thinking about how happy I am to be with you." It wasn't the whole truth, but enough of it to justify my reverie. "I think I'd be lost without you, Harry."**

"**Same." He smiled at me, looking truly happy, and I felt another pang of guilt at what I was hiding from him, insignificant as it was. Suddenly, I didn't want to anymore.**

"**Harry, I have to tell you-"**

"**Well, well, well, if it isn't the lovebirds!" A sardonic, drawling voice cut me off. I turned to see Malfoy, smirking at us. "Trying to get your end away, Potter? So sorry to interrupt."**

**Harry stepped in front of me, facing up to the blond-haired boy angrily. "Fuck off, Malfoy."**

**The Slytherin ignored Harry, looking straight past him to where I stood, blushing furiously. "You look a little flustered, Granger. Potter getting your panties all wet, was he?"**

**Harry grabbed him by the arm. "Keep your perverted thoughts to yourself, Malfoy. And don't you ever speak to her like that!"**

**Malfoy wrenched his arm free and pushed him aside roughly, striding up to me. I backed away, but he grabbed me by the arms, bringing my face within inches of his.**

"**You need a **_**real**_** man." That was all he said before Harry pulled him backwards, away from me. I landed on the grass, winded, close to tears. Harry and Malfoy were struggling together, each trying to gain the upper hand. At the first opportunity, Harry drew back his fist and punched Malfoy in the face.**

**Malfoy fell back on the grass, clutching his bruised cheek, his grey eyes promising revenge. Harry towered over him, shaking with rage. Malfoy's eyes flickered to me again, and for a moment he looked almost wistful. Then the expression was gone and his gaze was simply venomous. He hauled himself to his feet clumsily, backing away from us as he realised he no longer had the advantage.**

"**Enjoy it while it lasts, Potter," he muttered. His smouldering gaze turned to me one last time before he turned and strode off into the night.**

_**He's more than a man, and this is more than love, the reason that the sky is blue…**_


End file.
